


Somewhere to Begin

by bossers



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Hayseed Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, M/M, Witch AU, plot OCs, witch roadhog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-10-08 08:44:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10382841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bossers/pseuds/bossers
Summary: Mako studied so long and so hard to do this spell, but something has gone wrong. When the deed was done, his vengeance gained, the creature he summoned was supposed to cease to be. The spell was supposed to end. But it was still here with no one in the world but him. So now Hayseed is here to stay.





	1. Born of Blood

Though he had no clock to guide him, Mako could feel the witching hour finally come. Through his window the full moon lit what the candles burning around his sigil could not. The scent of blood overpowered the smell of incense that usually filled his home. It was repulsive, but so was this entire ritual.

In the center of his circle was a corpse dressed in a ratty pair of overalls from his old scarecrow. He couldn’t bear to look at the withered, rotted face and covered it with the mask the scarecrow had worn too, but the tattered leather with odd protruding lenses pulled over like a death shroud was beyond unsettling now.

From its place on the ground beside him, he pulled out the dagger he had used to sever the head from the chicken that had provided the needed blood. Holding it out before him, he willed the magic that sat thick and heavy in the air to gather into his hand. Deep in meditation, Mako could feel the power swell and swirl around him, collecting around the dagger. 

To his other side lay the black book from which he’d uncovered this ghastly spell. He glanced at it to refresh his memory and began his chant. “Hecate lend me your ear. Make this being your messenger. Will him to rise. Let him be as my arm. As I send them to you let them know for what they are done for. Let him bleed dry the men whose names are written here now. Let them burn.”

Mako trembled with the weight of the energies that were collecting, struggling to hold his focus long enough to complete the spell. With sweat pouring from his brow, he brought down the dagger into the dead man’s chest, crashing through into his chest cavity with a crunch of bone under his powerful hand. Drawing the dagger back out, revealing the passage into the heart he had just gouged, he continued.

“I offer my blood to bind us. By my life he lives. Tying us until the deed is done.” With that he slashed across forearm and flexed, letting his blood drip into the open wound in the corpse. Mako ignored his bleeding arm and retrieved the need and thread he had waiting. He sewed the wound close, speaking ancient words from the book that he did not understand. The stitches were messy and wide, but his hands would not stop shaking as he fought the weight of the energy in the room, willing him to quail.

On the final stitch he knotted it off and clipped the thread with his teeth. It was done. He sat back on his haunches and panted, eyes locked on the form before him. Its chest surged upward unnaturally and the magic grew so heavy Mako couldn’t breathe. The corpse jerked and twitched unnaturally, then dropped back to the floor. Mako was desperate for air, but the magic would not dissipate.

Finally the face moved, the head stretched up and up until the mask tore open like a nightmarish maw. And in that moment like a great vacuum the magic was swirled and siphoned into the now living creature. Its mouth remained agape, trying to catch any last bit of power. Mako could see the inside of its head was no longer a corpse but bright orange fire.

The witching hour passed and the room was now deathly still with exception for Mako’s heavy breaths and the quiet rasp that came from his creation’s mouth. They stayed like this for a while, resting from the ordeal. But far sooner than Mako was ready, as if he would ever be ready, the man sat up and looked at him. The little lenses wiggled and twisted on its head, focusing on him, then the room around them.

Mako cleared his throat, drawing its attention back. The mouth opened and closed a few times before it finally uttered, “Master.” The voice was distinctly inhuman, but not unpleasant. When he rose up, so did it, albeit the creation struggled, limbs shaking like a newborn fawn.

Its fragility worried him, had he not imbued it with enough magic? Would it not be strong enough? But once it finally rose it stood solidly, flexing its fingers as if it were relearning the movement. It probably was now that Mako considered it. He had created something entirely new.

“Do you know what you are here for?” he asked.

It nodded. “To punish Tommie Baldwin, Lynn Baldwin, Edgar Baldwin, Rodolfo Hawkins, Terrance Butler, and Seth Summers.” Then it did something that sent shivers up Mako’s spine. It giggled, clutching its hands together before full on cackling. Flames licked the edges of its torn mouth, jumping in time to its laughter. “For Master they will be bled and burned.”

Its strange eyes were locked on him, twinkling with same orange that illuminated its mouth. It was waiting for something.

“Go,” he finally ordered and the thing jumped to oblige, turning and running out of the house, flinging the front door open with one push. The sound of splintering wood made Mako remember he had locked that door. But his monster had thrown it open like nothing. Replacing a door was a small price to pay if he could get vengeance for his mother and sister. He watched the figure galloping into the dark of the night until he could see it no more.  
Exhausted by this endeavor, Mako turned away from his broken door and went to sit in his favorite chair. It was dark and cold without a fire, but on this night he preferred to be uncomfortable. His mind was consumed with reflection and regret. On the table beside him he gripped an old picture frame, pulling it close. It was their family photo, taken when he was young. It was the only one they ever took. Even in the dark he could faintly make out the faces of those he had lost. Pressing a finger to the curve of their faces, tracing slowly, he felt himself burn with rage.

The same burn that had been eating him alive for the past ten years. It had taken so long to learn enough advanced witchcraft to do this, even with the shortcut offered by using the black book. He supposed he was lucky he had learned the basics log ago or he may have never been able to reach this point. 

Lucky was something he always seemed to be. He was lucky his mother didn’t leave him in the woods to die when he was an infant as was tradition in her family for birthing a boy. He was lucky he had become a sailor. He was lucky he had been out to sea when the Baldwins and their posse had decided the time had come to burn the witches.

He simmered in his hate like this for a long time, but then was hit with roll of heat the seared all the way up his spine. It felt unnatural though not painful. His eyes rolled back as his vision aligned with his creation’s. It wasn’t perfect, it was flashes, but he could see those thin pale arms digging into flesh until blood spurted, holding them in place as a ball of fire was forced into a mouth. It waited, holding the struggling victim until a violent bang turned the victim’s head into mere splatter.

Only when the body was dropped to the ground could he tell it was Seth by the ring he wore. As another flash came, Mako realized that the creature was not identifying them by their faces, but by their hearts. More flashes of violence came, each more violent than the last. But when that thing arm grabbed hold of a screaming Lynn Baldwin a heavy axe came down on its arm. Mako’s own arm seared with pain unlike anything he had previously experienced.

He and his creation screamed, but unlike Mako its limb was truly gone, now nothing but straw on the floor. It raged, fire consuming its vision. In another flash Mako could see it had ripped Tommie’s arm from his body, thereby taking the axe from him. It cast the limb away and went back to tearing each of the remaining limbs from his attacker to punish Tommie. When it was finally done, it turned back to Lynn who trembled on the ground, watching.

She started to turn and run away, but with its other arm it grew another of those orbs and flicked it at her. As it bounced toward her, Edgar came running and dived for the explosive before it could reach his mother. It exploded with his gut around it, sending a splatter of gore in every direction. This made the creature laugh that same mad laugh. It seemed unable to catch its breath until another surge of agony shot up Mako’s leg. The vision this time was of falling to the ground with a hard thunk.  
When it turned over to se how had attacked it, Lynn was standing over it with the axe he’d thrown aside. He face was smeared with her son’s blood and face twisted in rage. She brought down the axe again, aiming for its head, but it dodged just enough to avoid being decapitated. But not enough to avoid all damage. It and Mako clutched their heads. The monster recovered faster this time, leaping away with only remaining limbs evidencing its inhuman strength again. It turned and Lynn came back into sight. She ran towards it as it took a deep breath, exhaling only when she was upon it. Red-hot fire spewed from its mouth. It kept coming as it stepped forward to follow her spasming and shrieking form. When she stopped writhing the flames stopped. Panting with effort, it looked down at her charred form, then dropped to the ground. Then the visions stopped.

Mako’s eyes flew open and he saw his dark home around him. It had been done. He had succeeded. His heart was pounding from the pain he had endured during the vision, but now it beat with relief. Tears streamed down his face. Trembling gasps escaped his lips that became full on sobs.

“I did it, I really did it.” Puling the picture frame he had dropped into his lap during the fight, he kissed his mother and sister’s faces, tears dripping onto the glass the covered them. He felt like he was finally free of the dark cloud that had hung over him since their death. Setting the picture back on the table, he stared at it until sleep took him.

When he awoke his body was sore and aching. Daylight streamed in through his open doorway. Right the door, he’d have to get to that today. He stood and stretched, yawning in the cold air that had filled his home. Turning to walk into his kitchen, Mako just about jumped out of his skin with a yelp.

It was here. On the ground lay his creation. It was sweaty and shaking. Looking back from where it came he could see a trail of straw that started at his door. In its fist was a fat pile of straw as well. When it noticed him standing there, it seemed to smile.

“I picked up my guts so they would not find master,” it explained, holding up its handful of straw. This effort lasted for only a moment before it collapsed on the floor again. Mako realized it had crawled all the way back from the Baldwin estate on just its left limbs. He stared at its wounds. From its missing limbs straw exploded out just like a scarecrow. Even more was popping out of the top of its head where he now saw that its scalp had been cleaved off. But even if it was a monster it was could still suffer. He couldn’t bring it into the world and leave it like this.

He jumped into action, grabbing the straw it had in its hand and jamming it back into its leg. It fell back out as one might expect. “Shit,” he muttered, looking about the room. His eyes fell to some rope. Grabbing it, he stuffed the straw back in and tied it off. Then he did the same to its arm. It was just straw, but it this is what came out of it then it must be like blood. For the head the straw was much longer. It didn’t seem to be falling out how the straw elsewhere was, but to be sure he collected it into a bunch and tied it off. It made it look like it had hair.

As he worked on it, those mechanical eyes twitched and followed his every move. They stretched and twisted when he stepped away to get the needle and thread he had used on it last night to close up the smaller cuts it had incurred. Slowly, but surely he patched the monster up. It lay there motionless except for its eyes, obviously still weak.

Carefully Mako scooped it up in his arms, carrying it to his bed to rest. He lay it down and stared. He had no idea what else to do. It wasn’t supposed to still be around. According to the spell it should have ended when the deed was done. And Mako had seen it, the deed was thoroughly done. Yet it was still here, still animate.

He awoke from his contemplation when a slender hand took his. It was covered in dirt and dried gore, but the touch was gentle. Looking at it, they watched each other for a moment. “Thank you, master,” it said, then let go. Mako stepped away, perturbed by those words. He would let it rest and come check on it later. There was a lot to clean up right now and he really needed to reread that spell.


	2. Made of Straw and Flame

The house was cleaned, the door set back up against the frame for now, and Mako was poring over the black book. As far as he could tell he’d done everything right. There was no reason that the thing in his bed ought yet be animate. But then again the book was written in an archaic Grecian dialect, maybe his translation was off. These ponderings were dropped as the heavy thump of the summoned one hit the ground.

Mako rose and headed back up to his bed and found it on the ground, crawling away. It looked up at him, revealing a mouse caught under its palm. They stared at one another for a moment, but when Mako said nothing it went to put the squirming thing in its mouth. In a panic, Mako dropped to his knees and slapped it out of its hand. The mouse hit the floor running and scampered under the bed and out of sight.

Its eyes twisted back from following the escaping mouse to Mako’s stunned face. The way they moved looked almost pleading. When a loud gurgle came from its gut, Mako understood why.

“If you are hungry we have food here. In the future don’t try to eat the mice.”

“Sorry, master. I will not do it again.” It bowed its head like a scolded child. 

Mako frowned. The word master was an uncomfortable one. He’d heard it often from the mouths of slaves at the docks and forced from his own mouth by cruel men when he was young. “I am not your master. You can call me Mako.”

It perked up and worked that wide mouth again, “Mmmako. Mako. And what is my name Mako?”

Right. The nature of summoned beings was something he had read over briefly in preparation of this spell. They came endowed with an understanding of language and knowing what things were, but without identity or of how to act outside of as instructed.

“You are Hayseed.” It was the first thing that came to mind. Its scarecrow appearance and being as fresh to the world as a newborn made the word come to him.

Those burning eyes would not leave him as it rolled the name about in its head. “Hayseed. Yes, I am Hayseed. And you are Mako.” It grinned as wide as its torn mouth could go, flames dancing just beyond its lips like sharp teeth.

“Aye, that’s right. Now come here,” he said, pulling Hayseed up off the ground. He threw its good arm over his shoulder and walked it to the small dinner table. Pulling out one of the chairs for it, he eased it down and stepped away. Its head swiveled every which way as did its eyes. 

While it looked about, Mako went to his cupboards. The stock was meager but he could put something together. He was hungry as well, he’d belayed eating for work when Hayseed appeared on his doorstep. He made a simple meal of porridge and eggs for them both.

Setting the plates down at the table, he sat across from Hayseed who all but pressed his mechanical eyes to the eggs. Mako wondered if the thing could smell given the lack of nose. When it was done looking at them it took one up in its hand and leaned back, letting it dangle above its open maw. Slowly it lowered it in, seemingly chewing at it despite the lack of teeth. When that was gone it went for the second egg with delight and just full on ate from its own hand with gusto.

Turning to the porridge at dipped its hand in and contemplated how to eat something that just dripped through its fingers. It licked them clean and Mako was interested to see how its flesh went unmarred by the molten tongue that did the job. It looked to him wordlessly. He expected it must be waiting to see how he tackles the issue. Mako grabbed his wooden spoon and showed it to Hayseed who cocked its head. Then he used it to eat, slowly and carefully so Hayseed understood.

It imitated him and was delighted by the success of bringing the food to his gullet. As they ate, Mako contemplated why Hayseed knew the names for everything but not what they were for. He supposed that maybe that was what the goddesses thought to be all a summoned needed to get by. If he wanted Hayseed to do something a certain way he would simply instruct it to do so. He hadn’t been looking for a permanent companion from this spell and the prospect of shaping Hayseed however he desired was off putting. It went against how he was raised. 

When Hayseed ran out of porridge it set down the bowl loudly and Mako looked up in time to see it bite down on the wooden spoon it had been using. To his amazement, it ate it like biscuit, each bite leaving behind char. Hayseed’s mouth was practically spurting flames with how the wood fueled it. It sighed and relaxed against the chair. Maybe feeding Hayseed would be easier if he just chopped some wood for it. It had seemed to enjoy the spoon even more then the eggs.

Finishing off his food, he collected the remaining dishes and poured out some water for himself from a pitcher. He contemplated in what order to complete the rest of the days chores. Stepping the short ways across the house, he looked at his broken door. Maybe it would be better to just make a whole new one rather than fix it.

These thoughts were interrupted by a shrill screech and shattering earthenware. Spinning on his heel Mako saw Hayseed standing by the water pitcher and holding his mouth in agony.

“Shit,” he cursed as he ran up and caught the wilting scarecrow. The color of its eyes were dim and light grey smoke was drifting from between its fingers. “Hayseed, eat.” Mako’s voice was calm, but forceful, one he he’d use on fresh faced sailors who couldn’t handle a crisis. In his hand was his own spoon that he’d left on the counter, he rapped it against Hayseed’s knuckles.

Its eyes twitch and shook as they flicked between Mako’s solemn face and the spoon. It crammed the whole thing in one go and found the relief it was looking for. It didn’t look at him again, just stared at the floor shamefully. “I copied Mako.”

“It’s ok. Are you alright now?” He pulled its face up, one hand on its chin as he peered into that burning mouth. The fire seemed to have gotten going again.

“Yes. Thank you.”

With a satisfied grunt, Mako let go of Hayseed. “I have work to do. Will you be okay by yourself for a while?”

“What do you want me to do mast-er, I mean, Mako?”

His eye twitched at that. “You can do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt anything.”

Contemplating that briefly, Hayseed nodded and hopped back to the bed. As Mako headed out to tend to the small farm his home had, he gave a tentative glance at Hayseed. Its expression was hard to read given the state of its face, but he hoped it was going to be ok alone. Should he worry about it? The way it had torn his enemies apart had been satisfying, but did that mean he should fear that violence being turned against himself? There were endless questions he had no answer to, but regardless this being was now his responsibility. 

When Mako left, Hayseed wished he could follow. He looked down at its mutilated leg and arm. Brushing over the straw with his remaining hand, he stroked up and down, interested by how sensation would stop abruptly where flesh became straw. But he knew from experience last night that if he were to tug a piece out it would hurt.

He looked back to the door wistfully and sighed. He could not explain it, but it felt like everything was telling him he should be with Mako. Furthermore, even though Mako had said he can do what he wants, he had no idea what to do. His mind held the answers as to what things were but not to why they were. Looking at them he could imagine ways they could be used as a weapon, but the answer to that was usually to use the item as a club.

This turned into a game of what couldn’t he beat someone with. A book could do it. A chair, absolutely. Floorboards, well he would have to pry one out. Then his eyes fell to the bed he sat on. Pulling up the blanket edge he ran his fingers over its texture. This didn’t feel like it could do the job. He turned around and looked at the pillow. Squeezing it with one hand he found that it was denser than expected.

Picking it up, he examined it closely. From its end a sharp little nub protruded. He pinched it out and found it to be a down feather. His eyes swiveled toward the door. It wasn’t hurting the pillow if he sampled this was it? Hayseed sucked it into his mouth and was rewarded with a satisfying, quiet, fwoo as it burned instantly.  
Perhaps Mako would appreciate him removing all extraneous feathers. Shedding the pillow of its cover, he was surprised when something fell out.

Inside the pillow had been a piece of heavy iron. It was just a rectangular hunk, not even trimmed well. Hayseed touched it and held for much longer than anyone else might have. More why questions flooded his mind over this trinket. Maybe Mako would know of a way to give him a new leg. He had been alive for only a day but could tell that being trapped indoors for days after this would be maddening.

When Mako finally returned after a couple hours, he found Hayseed having made it back off the bed, playing with the dying embers in the stove. Looking over at his bed he noted that his pillow had been stripped and seemed a little– deflated.

“Was it okay while I was gone?” he asked, closing the broken door behind him. Hayseed popped up from its place on the floor and tried to hop over to Mako only to fall half way. Jogging over, he helped it get up. Those burning eyes stretched toward him.  
“Mako! I have questions. Why did you keep this in the pillow?” Hayseed held up the bit of iron, which Mako took from it gently. He gazed it with a far away stare, a thumb brushing over its rough edge.

“A bit of iron under your head while you sleep keeps spirits away if they haunt your dreams.”

“You are haunted? I can fight for you still!” Hayseed was eager and leaned in uncomfortably close, hand catching Mako’s shoulder with a surprising gentle grip for something that had accidentally ripped his solid oak door from its hinges.

“Nah, it’s fine now. I don’t think I’ll be visited any more. You already freed me from what plagued me.” He shrugged Hayseed’s hand farther across his shoulders and lifted it up with a hand around its waist. He carried it to the small living area by the fireplace and set it down in the old rocking chair. Mako started to walk off again, but Hayseed caught him.

“More questions?”

Looking back at the pleading creature, Mako shook off its grip. “I have a lot to do right now. I promise we can talk later. When the sun sets.”

Hayseed seemed to accept that, turning away to gaze at the crackling flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should note that Hayseed is going to be OOC for a while. My concept is that Junkrat's personality is going to emerge from Hayseed with time. He's still sorting himself right now.


	3. Crackling Heart

When Mako finally returned that night he found that Hayseed hadn’t moved. It still sat in the rocking chair, pushing back rhythmically with it’s lone foot and fingers tapping in time. It seemed to be entranced by the still burning flames of the fireplace. But as soon as he lay one heavy foot farther in on the creaky wooden floor of his home, its eyes were upon him. The firelight cast eerie shadows across its strange face and in the twilight he was reminded of how strong the glow of the internal flames Hayseed were.

“Mako,” it said quietly. Its eyes twitched and turned as Mako shed his coat and boots. Soon it was quivering with excitement when he walked over to sit with it. “Is it time?” Hayseed chewed its bottom lip, hand gripping the chair arm. When Mako nodded, it twisted to face him, leaning as close as it dared.

“Can you fix my leg? I hated this.” It was desperate and whiny, which surprised him. He didn’t expect that it would have these kinds of preferences since it seemed so obedient. He assumed it would be more of a passive existence. Looking down at the stump leg, Mako hummed with interest, rubbing a hand over his chin.

“Can’t make it come back. But maybe a prosthetic. Does it hurt still?”

Hayseed prodded the mess of tied off hay that protruded where its leg has once been. It touched its leg all over discovering its own body with interest. “I can feel up here.” Its hand lingered midway up the stump. “But the rest is nothing. But no hurt.”

“Interesting,” he mumbled, leaning over to investigate the leg himself. It felt like the straw faded into flesh at about where Hayseed pointed. “This might be pretty easy all things considered.”

Hayseed bounced in his seat, grabbing Mako’s hand with his own. “Really? How soon can you fix it?” The witch blinked at the sensation of what should have been a dead man’s hand on his own, but instead of a clammy touch he found an unnatural heat.

“Tomorrow,” he mumbled, standing up to loom over Hayseed. It held fast to his hand, seemingly as interested in feeling Mako’s skin as he was in feeling its. With his free hand he pressed his palm to its stitched chest. The heat was even stronger here. It was like a hot toddy and as he focused he felt a strange rumbling beneath. No heart beat, but it could be compared to the crackling of flame.

Hayseed mimicked the touch, letting go of the heavy hand it had been tracing to slip past the loose strings that held together the deep V of his shirt and press between the meat of his pecs. Mako held fast against the touch, twitching with the urge to pull away from the invasion, but he was just as interested in seeing Hayseed’s reaction as he was unnerved. Thin fingers spread wide, catching the rise of his breast, pushing deeper. Its eyes strained outward, tugging at the stitching that held them down.

“Da–dum, da–dum, da–dum,” it whispered in time to the beats, leg bouncing along. “This is your rhythm? It is so steady.”

Mako blinked. It was aware of the crackling in its chest? He wasn’t sure when he had become aware of his own heartbeat as a child, but maybe that was natural. He pressed has thumb harder, stroking away from the stitches and feeling where the bone suddenly started up again. He had crushed this spot in. Perhaps it was now a weak spot, an undefended route to its heart if it still had one.

“What am I?” it finally asked. It looked up at him, hand sliding up his chest and neck to trace his jaw line, something it didn’t have. “Some parts the same, some different.”

Catching his hand as the intimacy of the touch became too much, Mako contemplated his answer. “You are the envoy of the goddess Hecate. A summoned spirit into a corpse endowed with magical life. Or at least that is what I understand you to be. I am far from a proper witch.”

“So what do I do now? I know I was meant to serve a purpose, but after that…” It clenched its hand uncomfortably as Mako kept holding its wrist. The light behind its eyes faded giving a downcast expression.

With a heavy sigh, Mako kneeled before his creation, releasing it to place his hands to his thighs, head bowed. “I expected you would return to wherever you came from after helping me, but it seems that like most things I failed to do the spell properly. I have no idea what will happen from here on out. I’m sorry.”

Silence fell between them with only the gentle sound of the fireplace to lighten the weight of the empty air. Slowly Hayseed reached out to Mako who’s eyes were locked to the floor, pressing its hand to his head and smoothing over the stray strands of grey hair had fallen from the tie, it tried to comfort him.

“Can I stay with you? Even if I have no purpose?”

Goosebumps broke out down his neck as Hayseed stroked his hair. It was a kind, soothing gesture, one he hadn’t had since the last time he had been with his family. His eyes stung with tears. No one had been there to comfort him when he buried them or when the nightmares came after. And now this veritable abomination was petting his head ever so gently despite him tearing it from the goddess’ side.

“Stay as long as you like. I will take care of you. I promise.” His voice was shaky, hand balling up on his thighs as Hayseed toyed with his hair. He could feel it pause and fingers tremble when he answered.

“Then I will stay with Mako forever.” It sounded so certain. He looked up and its eyes were glowing bright again and a strange smile tugged at the torn edges of its mouth. “Whatever Mako needs I will do! That is my purpose!”

His brows furrowed and he shook his head. “You purpose is to live. Just live for yourself.” He wasn’t looking for a servant and his mother had always made him and his sister promise never to enslave a spirit. He had thought that this spell could be an exception to the rule, a one time incident to avenge them, but that was not the case now.

It seemed to turn that over in its head, eyes retracting and twisting while it chewed its bottom lip. “Live. But if I am a corpse how do I live?”

“You are more than a corpse. You have a rhythm. Things that are dead do not have one,” he said, calling back to the phrasing Hayseed had used regarding his heartbeat.

Pressing its hand to its chest it looked up thoughtfully, fingers tracing its stitches and listening to its crackling innards. “I do not know how to do that. The things I know, they tell me only how to end life.”

Mako’s face contorted into a mix of sympathy and sadness. His intents for Hayseed had gifted it with only the knowledge it needed as he’d suspected. “You can learn.”

It looked at him, shutters of its lenses blinking. Mako swore each time he looked at those eyes they seemed more alive. “And you can teach.”

Nodding in agreement, Mako rose back up, grunting as his knees ached. Moments like this made him feel old. He could still remember when his body never whined. Hayseed got up too, swaying on one leg until Mako caught his waist, reminded again of how warm the creature was. 

They went back to the kitchen and as Mako cooked he hummed to himself. Hayseed tried to copy him even though he didn’t know the tune, creating a strange cacophony. To teach him wordlessly Mako hummed short parts, letting Hayseed return the sound. Together they hummed out a call and return song that lightened the mood immensely. The way it rocked and bobbed along reminded him of how to had reacted to his heartbeat, perhaps it had an affinity for music.

This time most of Hayseed’s plate was made of wood chips, which it seemed just as content to gobble up as it was the baked potato it had been given. He on the other hand had leftover soup he’d been saving. Hayseed growled lightly when it saw the liquid move in Mako’s bowl, curling away from it. Mako watched it at first then held a spoonful out to it experimentally. Hayseed screeched and pushed away from the table, and while it was kind of mean, Mako couldn’t help laughing at how his new housemate tumbled head over heels when the chair fell.

Hopping up, he ran over to help Hayseed up, still chuckling as the scarecrow flailed gracelessly about. “Sorry, didn’t think it would scare you like that.”

“Water hurts! Why would you try to hurt me?” it whined, a comically large frown spread across its face.

“Only if you drink it,” he chided. “You were soaked in blood when you killed for me, but weren’t hurt.”

Hayseed considered this as Mako set him back in his seat. It looked at the soup suspiciously, watching as he returned to his meal and ate. When the staring went on for too long Mako paused again and looked at Hayseed who still seemed to be contemplating the soup. He offered the spoon again and Hayseed flinched, but mustering up its courage, it slowly extended its hand out and let its finger dip into the soup. When nothing happened it perked up.

“I think that your insides are made of fire. That’s why when you drank before it hurt you.” Mako took back his spoon and drained it while Hayseed looked at his finger. “I don’t think you should get too wet, but you can probably get splashed without having to worry. Just don’t go out in the rain.”

It thoughtfully ate some more, before saying, “It’s strange. I know what rain is, but I have not seen it. There are many things like that in my head.”  
Mako couldn’t imagine a stranger existence than Hayseed’s. It probably would have fascinated his sister to no end. But while he would have worried over it, Hayseed seemed content regardless. It traced the grain of the wooden table, smiling to itself. “I want to see it all.”

He grunted in agreement and took the dishes to the counter. He was exhausted from the day’s work and the magic he’d done the night before. Looking to his bed he wondered if Hayseed could sleep. “Are you tired?” he asked.

“Um,” it started, looking down at itself, “I don’t think so.”

“I’m going to bed. You can stay up then.”

“No! I want to go to bed too!”

“Alright.” The pair made their way to the bed. It was a large family sized bed. It had held his mother and him and his sister before he had hit his growth spurt. After that his mother had taken to sleeping in the chair by the fire. But if it was just him and Hayseed, even as large as Mako was now they’d fit.

He pulled off his shirt and trousers, stretching and rolling his shoulders. Hayseed stared at the tattoo that was revealed before him. A pig against a compass with tentacles reaching out from behind. It traced the scars on his skin with its eyes and crawled across the bed to look closer. 

“What are these?” It sat by Mako, pointing at his nipple piercings.

“Piercings. They made a hole in the skin and put metal through.”

Hayseed ran a hand over its nipples, then pointed again at the picture carved into his skin. “And this?”

“A tattoo. Using a needle they pierce the skin and put in ink. Like drawing on skin.”  
It continued to ogle him, taking in his bare figure and patting its own body here and there in comparison. After a while Mako shooed Hayseed away so he could get into bed.

They settled in, Mako sighing as he relaxed into the mattress. Normally it would take a bit for the bed to warm up with his body heat, but Hayseed made it cozy in a matter of minutes with its radiating heat. He looked over at it, watching it watch him. 

“Goodnight Hayseed.”

“Goodnight Mako.”


	4. Feels Good to be Bad

The next day fell so easily into routine for Mako. Despite waking up with a living heater curled beside him, he slept peacefully through the night. Without his iron even. Finding the chunk set aside on the bedside table, he held its cold weight in his palm once more and reflected on the dreams he had run from. Usually dreams would fade upon waking but the one he’d had when he’d returned had been so vivid and they hadn’t faded at all.

He’d been told of premonitions and predictions before, but neither his mother or sister were gifted with Sight as it was referred to. Throughout his childhood he’d had a few visions in his dreams before, but nothing especially useful. Just little things. Then that night came. Potent and gripping he dreamt of the burning. He could still see them burning if his mind desired to punish him with it. He hadn’t come home in time.

But all that was behind him now that he’d taken his revenge. Now there was Hayseed. After breakfast, Mako took Hayseed out to the barn first thing. He carried the creature in his arms because he thought it would be quicker, but the moment they got outside Hayseed started asking to stop and look at every little thing. Its eyes pulled so hard at the seams of its leather face he swore they were going to pop off. It would say the name of the thing, touch it, lick it, eat it. Mako didn’t allow this with everything, but he indulged Hayseed.

Most would say he was a hard man. One cut of the woods and sea. He had spent his childhood days living almost feral if his mother hadn’t always called him back. Then his adolescence was one of labor, working his family’s land and for others to make enough coin to provide for them all and to save up for the future he hungered for. Then with enough savings, he set off for the coast. Saw the world from the deck of ship and held his own against the brutality of a life at sea. All this made him unshakeable in the face of danger. Made him a calm, collected man who could face anything without flinching.

But he wasn’t hard enough. Not hard enough to endure what they’d done to his mother and sister. And in his heart he still held the gentle teachings of his mother, which he now held in mind as he watched Hayseed cram flower after flower into his firey maw. 

“That’s enough,” he rumbled. “They need those to grow more bushes.”

“Really?” Hayseed asked, pulling his hand back from taking another. “This becomes another bush?”

“In a way. The bees rub on them and take the yellow stuff around to each one. Then the flowers make seeds to make new bushes from.” He made the last push to the barn as Hayseed contemplated this explanation.

Within the barn were a couple of wide stalls. The goats behind them started bleating when they saw him, ready to be fed and let out. But he passed them up to go to the work table at the back. It was old and creaked, but was stable enough to take Hayseed’s weight on it. Hayseed tilted its head back farther and farther until it could see the wall behind it. Hung from hooks and nails were various tools for farm work and repairs. The way its neck bent was unnaturally far, the back of its head was almost touching its spine. 

Mako dug out a long piece of wood from a pile of timber they kept in there. It was the appropriate thickness for a peg leg and several feet long. Bringing it over to Hayseed, he moved his creation bodily so he could measure out the length of the stick.

“What you gonna do with that?” Hayseed asked.

“Make you a peg leg,” Mako answered. He threw the creature a glance, noticing the slight change in speech.

“I see.” It waited patiently as Mako sawed off a piece and then came back, positioning it against the tied off stump of straw. Slowly he forced the wood into the stump. Hayseed had said that he couldn’t feel anything for a few inches here, so Mako pushed it in slowly. When Hayseed gave a sound of surprise and flinched he stopped. Finally he retied the rope he’d tied off the stump with so it hugged the peg leg tight.

“Let’s see if it works.” He guided Hayseed off the table.

Once on the ground, Hayseed tried taking a step or two but found the peg leg ungainly. He has to swing it out to the side in an arc to bring it around for a step. With no knee it couldn’t walk normally. “This feels strange,” it said quietly, gripping Mako’s arm for support as it tried to walk.

“It’s the best I can do. I can’t take you into town to get a prosthetic. Actually. We need to have a serious talk.” Mako realized the dangers to keeping Hayseed around the more he thought about it now. While it had a human body and could probably pass as someone in an strange costume, a closer look at the flaming mouth, the mechanical eyes, the seamless transition from flesh to straw and visible stitches. It would be no question that Hayseed was an abomination to anyone unfamiliar with witchcraft. And that happened to be most everyone.

As they continued to practice, Mako continued, “You can’t let other people see you. They won’t understand and they’ll kill you.”  
It twisted to face him, planting its peg leg firmly in front of where they’d been slowly walking. Its one arm tugged at his shoulder to try and close those last inches of height difference. “I won’t let them. I’ll kill them like I did before! I’ll never leave Mako.”

The light behind those lens flickered in a way that suggested furrowed brows. Its words were more touching than he expected. It was right. He didn’t want to be alone again. “I know you’re strong. But look at what you lost in that one fight. If they see you they’ll bring a mob.”

It dropped its head, looking to its lost leg and arm. When it looked back up those eyes were so bright it was painful to meet them. “I’ll become stronger.” The words were a whisper, but this close he could hear them perfectly.

“Just promise that you won’t let anyone see you.” He gripped Hayseed’s shoulder firmly to emphasize his insistence.

A pause as it registered the touch, but it nodded. “I promise. For Mako, anything!” It smiled and hopped on its good leg. Mako smiled back. He couldn’t help but think again that maybe somehow the goddesses had left Hayseed here to help his healing. He had lived in his old family home alone, stewing in his sadness, regret, and anger. And now here was the thing that had brought his family’s killers to justice living with him, taking away the loneliness that had crept up on him each dark night.

After another thirty minutes of practice Hayseed had figured out how to get around without falling every few steps, so Mako left it to its own antics while he tended to the very irritated livestock. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Hayseed shadowed him everywhere he went. It struggled to keep up, but never complained when Mako didn’t slow down. He had to get things done in a certain amount of time or he wouldn’t have enough daylight to do everything else he wanted to do that day.

Just like that Hayseed was integrated into his life. The slept and ate together. Hayseed would follow him about during the day, but as time passed it would wander farther and farther out, but never so far that they couldn’t see each other. Its curiosity for the world seemed to never end. Throughout the day it would bring him things to ask about their purpose. Hayseed knew what things were, how they could be used, what they did. His questions always delved deeper. Why did this exist? How was it connected to the rest of the world? It was only when he ran out of things to ask about did the questions finally taper off.

Two weeks into this new lifestyle, the thing Mako had been putting off had to happen. With a sigh after the morning chores were done, he turned to Hayseed who was idly picking weeds from where it sat against the barn exterior. “Hayseed.” It snapped to attention, smiling at the sound of his voice. 

“I have to go into town to buy some things. That means I have to leave you alone for most of today.” The smile withered and it looked down and away, its one hand tightening around the clump of weeds in its hand.

“And I can’t go because there are people,” it half said half asked.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, watching it uneasily. They hadn’t been apart since that first morning he’d left alone in the house all day. And this time he’d be miles away not feet.

It dropped the weeds and clumsily got to its feet. “And I’m not supposed to be seen by people.”

“Yep.”

Its eyes twisted and turned as he found they were prone to do when it was thinking. “Alright!” it said finally. It was smiling again and a wave of relief washed over Mako. He had been afraid it would be upset or afraid. But maybe he ought to give it more credit, it was monster not a child. It had been sent off alone into the night when he’d summoned it, he should really worry less.

“Will you bring me something?” it asked slyly, twisting its peg leg into the dirt. Mako laughed from deep in his belly. Of course, he’d forgotten he’d told it about how there were some things you couldn’t get just here in the woods.

“I’ll bring something back for you, don’t worry.” He clapped a heavy hand down on its shoulder, making it lose balance, but Hayseed caught himself, grinning brightly up at him.

It watched him dress for the trip, throwing on a traveling cloak and taking a large rucksack to carry what he bought. They walked together up to the edge of the clearing that made up Mako’s family home. From there he walked off into the woods alone.

Hayseed watched him go, the sound of crunching still tickling at his ears long after the dense woods had swallowed up that broad back. He gave a quick squat, testing how deep he could drop without tumbling due to his missing knee. Then he jumped. In a moment he was in the branches of the first tree, his good hand catching the limb above him to keep from falling.

From here he could see where a proper trail had been cut a few miles ahead and if he zoomed in with his eyes he could see smoke trails in the distance. Like this he followed Mako, jumping from tree to tree slowly, making sure not to draw too much attention to himself. More than once he tumbled from his perches, peg leg offering no grip and no flexibility. But he would catch himself all the same. The falls were nothing and at worst tore open a few stitches. Nothing Mako couldn’t fix!  
Hours passed but as slow going as Mako’s pace was they got there eventually. From the safety of the forest Hayseed watched his creator walk into town. He was a giant compared to everyone else there. So much was different here. The buildings were neatly built and packed in close. Chimneys bellowed smoke all over the place, horses trotted about, pulling carts or being ridden. Hayseed watched Mako make his way through the smattering of people. They parted for him.

When he lost sight of Mako and grew tired of the sight from up here, Hayseed dropped down to ground. He hugged the edge of the woods, circling the town to catch glimpses of what went on within from the gaps between buildings. He was fascinated by it all and wishing he could just walk in and see it. As he skirted the edge of town he came upon an open air building that was the source of the most smoke. Even from his place in the shadows and bramble he could feel the heat emanating from under its roof. His eyes stretched and twisted to focus on the man within who was toying with the flames, stoking them like how Hayseed loved to do at home.

Hours slipped by as Hayseed sat entranced by the man working the forge. His natural affinity for flame was captured as was something deeper and unexplainable. It felt as though each movement the blacksmith made was well known to him despite never having even seen this place before. It was only the loss of the fire that burned in the sky that roused Hayseed from his watching. He had never been out past sundown and guessed that Mako was home or nearly so. 

A fearful thrill ran him that he hadn’t experienced before. He was afraid of angering Mako, but at the same time the chance that he might be able to get back before the large man was any the wiser– it made him giggle. With bend of his knee, he lept from his place at the edge of the woods and bounded back home. Unlike last time where he had to keep a steady pace behind Mako, he could really push himself. As soon as his foot hit one branch he was pushing off again. With his peg leg he’d help course correct, lashing out against tree trunks to evade others. There was only so much the leg could take however. One too violent kick sent a crack through it, forcing him to hold back. 

Despite this he was home in minutes rather than hours. From the treetops he came flying out, curled and readying to land in the open land of their farm. With the wind shaking his hay and billowing out his loose overalls, he could feel his fire crackling violently inside his chest. It was as if his body was burning. He loved it.

As he landed, catching himself with his good leg and arm, the bliss of the day still upon him, Hayseed didn’t see Mako watching from the edge of the forest. The witch walked briskly to Hayseed, hands balled up to hold in his anger. It had promised him! Where had it been if not on the farm? But as he closed in on it, Hayseed uncoiled from the earth and cackled gleefully. It was just like how it had laughed when he had first summoned it, but instead of barely held bloodthirst, this one was full of joy.  
It had not laughed since the day of its “birth” and what had been uncanny then was now endearing. It bounced where it stood, subsiding to a giggle and dusting off its palm. Hayseed had been reveling in its success until it turned around. The hay the protruded from the top of its head seemed to go a bit more limp as it saw a slightly less upset, but still pretty pissed Mako.

“O–oh, hello! Mako!” it said with a wiggle of its fingers, but when Mako just kept staring it down, Hayseed cowered slightly, eyes downturned and twitchy.

“Inside. Now.” Mako whispered firmly.


	5. A Grave for You and Me

The pair walked into their home accompanied by a tense silence. Hayseed rubbed its arm uncomfortably at how coldly Mako was acting. When they got in the silence persisted. Mako slid off his traveling coat and stood before the empty fireplace. 

“Hayseed,” he said, still gazing down at the ashes in the hearth. “Why did you go?”

The creature stood near the doorway slumped over even more than usual. “I wanted to see it.” More silence, then Mako moved. It was jarring with what strength and speed that huge man mustered to cross the room in an instant and pull Hayseed back outside. A tense grip on its left wrist, he pulled it along back into the woods, the border of trees that was closer to his home. Hayseed didn’t struggle to resist much, but when he did test the grip, he found a tinge of fear for how powerful that massive hand was.

A few minutes of trees and brush gave way to a tiny clearing. In the dim daylight, an orange glow cast gently over the creeping vines on the ground, their white blooms tightly closed. They climbed over two mounds and wound their way up a pair of shoddy wooden crosses. 

Hayseed look up at Mako who released his wrist to point at the ground here. “This is where I will bury you. If anything remains after. With the rest of my people. I cannot keep you trapped in that hut forever, but you can’t pretend that you can fight off that whole town. They’ll rip you to pieces if they cannot burn you.”

These slow and heavy words dripped with sorrow. The longer Mako looked at these graves, the more fear crept into his heart that he would be alone again. Even if his companion was an abomination, Hayseed had given Mako a reason to wake up everyday.

Hayseed stood up to his full height and reached up to gently stroke the side of Mako’s face. His straw filled guts had been twisting from the moment they came here. It was familiar in a way that hurt as was the urge to comfort Mako in this way. He did not understand why his feelings churned this way, but what he did understand was the great pain Mako had been in when he’d first been summoned, and that the pain was back.

“It’ll be ok, mate. You’ll never have to bury anyone again.” 

Though it had no pupils to its eyes, Mako was certain they were meeting his. Goosebumps rose on the back of his neck from the touch and the sincerity of its words. Compared to when it had first been summoned, Hayseed had really started to come into his own. Mako thought about the shrill laugh it had made earlier. His heart warmed with fond feelings and the ache of imagining laying another corpse here faded. They’d only been here a short while but the sun had set and now in the darkness here, hidden from everything, Mako let himself trust those words. 

“Let’s go,” he said finally, shrugging off Hayseed’s warm hand. The firelight of its eyes and mouth glowed well enough to light the way back until they cleared the tree line. 

From that day forward, Hayseed would leave almost every other day for the town. Every time he did Mako was struck with anxiety, but before nightfall Hayseed would return without fail. Then as they’d sit together for dinner Hayseed would regale him with stories of what he saw. And what Mako adored most, was that week by week, Hayseed’s understanding of the world and himself seemed to be growing.

This was something he felt within himself as well. The more he watched people, the more little phrases and movements clicked with him. It felt like he was piecing himself together from watching people. But what he watched more than anything was the blacksmith. Everything about that place made him vibrate with desire. He’d hug the tree he hid behind and sigh wistfully as the man who worked the shop applied hammer to metal and nut to bolt. 

“Mako,” he asked one morning, “When you go into town next time could ya bring back some sheet metal?” Those strange eyes were locked to the floor uneasily. Mako looked up from his book and contemplated the request. Metal wasn’t cheap, but this was the first time Hayseed was asking for something. 

And he wasn’t blind, he saw how Hayseed had been collecting odd bobs and bits. When it helped him with repairs it was a fountain of clever ideas. Whatever was going on in that straw filled head, it was a cleverness Mako had never known.

“Mm, let me see what I have in my savings. How much did you need?”

“Oh well, it’s not a need. Ya don’t really need to worry, mate–“ it picked at its overalls and leaned back and forth in its chair. 

“Just tell me already. I don’t want to make multiple trips so if there’s other things don’t hold back.”

Hayseed gripped his knee tight and felt his the crackle of fire in chest roar to life. Mako’s face was stoic, but the lightest hint of a smile lay there. Hayseed was terribly fond of that expression on Mako. It was comforting. “This is what I want–“ it said, pulling out a piece of paper with a list of items scrawled on it.

Taking it gently, Mako wasn’t sure what some of these things were, but he was certain that he probably did not have the money for all this. He pursed his thick lips and nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” Hayseed screeched happily. Its wide smiling mouth brimmed with flame, stitches taut at the corners but not breaking. Mako let his worries slip away and he smiled again. The room had warmed up significantly with Hayseed’s excitement.

Perhaps that was how he’d buy these things– Mako looked at his book again. Hours of his day had opened up because there was no need to chop wood anymore with Hayseed around. The creature was a living furnace and it helped with chores, so free time was something Mako had now. He’d taken to studying magic a little more seriously and perhaps he would do it even more now. 

Though magic itself was loathed by most people, they did so love to reap its benefits. Potions and poultices were a good market if you were a man. He sighed and thumbed the worn spine of his mother’s book. For all the work she did for those people they loathed her. She gave them cures to ailments no medicine could fix and for it they whispered that she consorted with devils.

And here he was, sharing a bed with a monster, but they wouldn’t whisper about him if he played his cards right. Not that he was much of a salesman, but he’d try.

Rubbing a thumb over the paper, Mako considered the barely legible scrawl. “When did you learn to write?”

Hayseed , who had been jiggling his good leg furiously with excitement, stopped and came back to earth. “Dunno! I just– knew? When I wanted to write, I suddenly remembered how. But my hand didn’t like it.” It frowned at its left hand, which he balled up and turned as if it were offended.

“Remembered…” Mako said quietly to himself. With how quickly Hayseed’s personality had been blooming that had been on his mind. How much of the soul of that corpse remained? Or how much was built from observation? The weight of the topic he’d circled times before forced out a sigh. 

The sound made Hayseed perk up and stare. “Tired?”

The big man laughed off the creature’s amusing gaze. It was easy to know what Hayseed was interested in. Its eyes would stretch toward the object of its desire every time. “I’m always tired, but it won’t stop me.”

“Why?” Hayseed’s favorite word still.

“I’m just old. It comes with the territory.” He pushed out from under the table and stood up. Hayseed remained seated and tapped a finger idly on the table.

“How old are you?”

It took a moment of counting on his knuckles, but finally he said, “Forty eight.”

“And how long do people live?” It sat still as it asked the question.

“Maybe a hundred? If you’re lucky. You can’t really count on getting old. Death has knocked at my door a couple times already.”

Hayseed stood abruptly, straw bristling on his head. “He will not knock again if he knows what’s good for him!”

The reaction made Mako start laughing hard. Deep and rolling without pause to breathe. The baritone sound swallowed the room and his gut heaved violently. Mako clung to the counter beside him until he could suck in a breath again. Hayseed meanwhile stood and stared, the crackle in his chest madly popping with sparks. 

“I meant it as a metaphor,” Mako explained, straightening up. “If death were a man I think I could take him. He smirked, flashing a couple silver teeth with his trademark underbite.

“Oh,” Hayseed mumbled, slumping back down to his usual hunch. After a pause it looked up again, “You’ve never told me about what you did before. Was it dangerous?”

“Very.” He went back to getting ready for the morning chores. Hayseed followed. 

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Tell me! I know so little about Mako. I only know your sorrows.” That stopped Mako in his tracks. He contemplated those words as Hayseed watched on, tense over the reaction to come. But all that came was a grunt of agreement.

As they worked,Mako spoke. More than he had in years. A man of few words, but for Hayseed he told tale after tale. “After I left the employ of the Tailwind I took up with Hades Saber. That was when things got more dangerous. But I knew very well they would.” He smiled to himself fondly. “I may have been raised peacefully I hungered for adventure that a fishing boat couldn’t offer.”

Hayseed, enraptured by the stories, kicked his legs with glee. “And what did ya get out of it?”

Mako wiped his brow and leaned against the hoe in his hand a moment so he could pull up his shirt and show his tattoo to Hayseed again. “Kraken hunting,” he said, smiling again and tapping the tentacles that stretched across his stomach.

Hayseed’s eyes spun violently in his head. “Kraken? Those are real?”

“More real than most would care for.” His expression muted into something inscrutable and distant. “Any way, I can’t count the times one of those beasts has nearly taken my head off.” He turned, letting the hoe fall from his grip and tugged off his shirt. Across his back were huge circular scars among many others. They spread down his arms too, but the worst of them were on his back.

Though he couldn’t drink water, Hayseed suddenly felt like he needed some for the lump in his throat. “You’re almost as bad as me,” it said with a strangled laugh. 

Mako reached behind himself and felt the bumps and gouges with the back of his hand. “I’d always go and get myself thrown across the deck. So this part of me took the brunt of my foolishness.”

“Do you miss it?”

Mako remained silent for a bit. “Not since summoning you.” 

“Oh.”


	6. Bury It Deep

From then on the word ‘remembered’ haunted Mako. The more Hayseed went exploring, the more he came back with new words on his lips and more knowledge Mako hadn’t taught him. And he grew more and more precocious, slipping into some forgotten personality that loved to wise crack, tongue lash, and scream its head off. Just what all was there to remember?

Mako studied hard to make the trinkets he would sell at the market to buy his companions grocery list of materials. They would spend their nights sitting at the edge of the bed, Hayseed over his shoulder, eyes providing the light needed to read by. With his chin on Mako’s shoulder, leaning against that broad back, he read along.

“What’s cleromancy?” he asked, tilting his head curiously and prickling Mako’s head with his straw.  
“It’s a form of fortune telling by reading the future from cast lots or rolled dice.”

“Does it really work? What could dice tell ya more than numbers?”

“I’ve not met a witch that specialized in this My mother could read tea leaves a little, but fortune telling is only effective if the reader is gifted in it. To even glimpse the future is a rare skill.”

“Do all witches have gifts?”

“Yes. Just as everyone has the things they are good at. And that there are those that have rare strengths in niche areas.”

Hayseed hummed with thought and settled in again against Mako. He was incredibly tactile since the start and had only grown more so with time. It didn’t bother Mako, the incredible warmth of Hayseed’s body was welcome in cold nights and mornings. He only shook off the touch during midday when he was broiling from sun and farm work.

“So what’s your specialty then?”

Mako set down the book and sighed. “Well. I have had, visions. I’m not well versed in fortune magic so I don’t know what they are, but I will dream of things that come true. It was how I knew my family was going to be killed. I do not know if I can change the things I see. Before that one they were such little things, but they were also of childish things. When I left home I did not dream at all.”

Enthralled, Hayseed tightened his grip on Mako and rocked him. “Mako! Ya drongo, how could ye have such a gift and still never be taught magic! What was yer other thinking?”

“I never thought much about it and never told her. I was too busy roaming the forest to realize what I had. Not that I think she would have taught me anyways. Witches aren’t even supposed to have sons.”

“Why’s that?”

“Tradition. One rooted in good reason. Men are written by law to own most everything as it is. If they had magic they’d kill each other for it. With it. Just as the rich take from the poor they would take from witches. And thus the tradition was made.” Mako looked down at his feet. “Wisely so. I did not prove them wrong.”

“Do you feel guilty?”

“No. But I feel guilty that I do not.”

“I think they deserved it! It was justified!”

“I was taught that there is no moral murder. But I did it anyways. Worse I had you do it. Didn’t even have the guts to do it myself.”

“They would’ve killed you if you did it yourself.”

“Maybe that would have been the righteous way.” 

“Maybe you need to stop bein’ so damn gloomy and get yer head out yer arse! Where would I be without your revenge? Hmf!” He let go of Mako and fell back onto their bed to pout.

Mako turned around and prodded him. “You’re not really mad are you? Hayseed?”

“Mm!” he grunted back.

“I’m sorry. I spoke thoughtlessly,” Mako said, laying a hand on Hayseed’s shoulder.

Hayseed rolled back over, its eyes blazing a deep red. “Yer always lke this! So sad! So mopey! You got those people back, but you still act like nothing’s been gained! Like nothing’s changed since then!”

Oof, thought Mako. He wasn’t wrong. Turning his eyes away, Mako nodded. 

Hayseed stared at him. “Why?” Mako’s eyes flicked back to the creature, then away again. Incensed, Hayseed sat up and smacked his knee with his hand. “Why! Did I do a bad job? Was it not enough?”

In a flash Mako’s hand was on his shoulder. “It’s not you. I swear. I’m still so grateful to Hecate that she had you help me and that she left you with me. Maybe she knew I couldn’t be alone.”

Hayseed’s eyes lightened back to orange, but he was insistent. “Then what’s the bloody problem here?”

Mako shrank away, something he’d never done nor something Hayseed even thought he could do. Turning back to the edge of the bed, he crouched over his knees, hands around his head and hair shrouding his face. Hayseed watched at first then moved to pursue him.

Before he could Mako spoke quietly. “If I hadn’t left home I could have protected them. If I had been even a little closer to home my vision would have been of use. I resented this place. I resented them both. So I went as far away as I could. I just can’t forgive myself.” His thick fingers dug into his scalp and he curled up further. "And then I wielded that sacred power out of malice. The very reason it was hidden from me."

Panicking, Hayseed clamored over and pulled at him. “No, no, no, I’m sorry for getting mad. I didn’t think– didn’t know–“

For a few moments Mako’s breath was shuddering and uneven, but then he breathed deep and straightened up. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he squelched the self loathing back into the pit of his heart. He thought he'd buried it deep, but just like that it had been dug up. Pitiful.

Hayseed was hovering nearby, face twisted with worry and eyes twitching.

“I’m okay,” Mako reassured. Hayseed’s eyes focused on him and while the squiggle of its worried mouth remained, it didn’t press the issue. “Let’s go to bed, huh?” 

That night was probably the clingiest the scarecrow had ever been. Mako smoothed the straw on its head soothingly and lay awake that night, just remembering.


	7. The Other Side of Paradise

“So these things ye made, they’re magic?” It kept trying to peek into his pack, and Mako kept shooing him off.

They were on their way to town. Mako had been going to the market weekly now to sell his new wares. It was helping immensely and soon he’d have enough for the grocery list of smithing items Hayseed had asked for.

“A bit. They’re good luck charms and herb mixtures. I imbued them with spells of power, but without knowing that they are just trinkets and poultices. It’s a dangerous thing to practice magic. Even more dangerous to show it to people that do not understand.”

“But yer doing it anyways?”

“Yea. I mean, just this is fine. No one will know. I met other witches in my travels and this is what they did to get by. Little spells like this don’t arouse suspicion.”

“Why didn’t you do this before? Looking at the books? You picked this up in a flash.” It broke off a bit of tree branch hanging down in the trail and ate it. “Did you try to learn magic when you worked on sea?”

“It never even occurred to me to try and learn it. It simply wasn’t an option when I was growing up. Didn’t think to pick it up on the road either. Only to bring you to this world.”

In an instant Hayseed was very close, firey eyes flickering. “I always meant to ask, was I very hard summon? How did you do it?”

“Oh, well, yes.” He broke off uncertain if he should really say what it took to create the creature. “You– you’re made of a corpse, a chicken, and my blood. I guess. Maybe also a bit of a scarecrow? I gave you that mask to shroud your face, but I didn’t think it would become a part of you.”

“No wonder I always felt a kinship with the yard birds!” It laughed madly, pounding its feet. “And with you too, of course.” But then he looked away, frowning and trying to hide it.

Mako stopped and caught its shoulder. “I– I have been afraid to ask, but. Do you ever remember a life before this? Perhaps the one you lived before your– or your body’s death?”

Hayseed shrank, eyes twisting and mouth pursed. “I don’t know what to call it. They aren’t memories, but there are things that feel. Right. Like when I call ye mate. Like the shorthanding of words. Like the way the blacksmith hammers away.”

“Do you regret? Being as you are?” Mako asked softly, fearfully.

But Hayseed straightened, clasping his one hand on Mako’s shoulder, then on his cheek. Its hand was boiling hot as always. “No, never. If anything, I’m grateful! How many get a second chance at life, eh?” It’s eyes were such a gentle orange and its smile kind. 

Relief washed over Mako, enough to make his knees tremble. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I don’t know if I’ve said it enough, but I barely knew magic when I summoned you and when you remained. I had no idea what was going to happen. What you’d do or become.”

Hayseed laughed and Mako could feel the heat of its fire on his face. It stepped back and posed with a smirk, sweeping a hand downward to gesture at himself. “What do you think of me? Have I come into my own?”

“I think I praised you too often and spoiled you rotten. You never listen anymore and your head’s grown two times in size.” He said matter of factly with the barest smirk on his lips.

Hayseed stopped in his tracks, mouth parted in shock. It put a hand to its head patting all around. When it was assured that it was still the same size as always Hayseed’s eyes spun and it stomped after him. “My head is not two times as big, ye drongo!”

“And you’re still as gullible as the day you came to life!” Mako chimed, laughing all the while. It screeched angrily then playfully pawed at Mako’s arm.

“You used to be so nice to me!”

“You used to not know what water was.”

“So you’re intimidated by my intelligence?” It skipped ahead, eyes flashing as it taunted him.

“The wisest man knows he knows nothing.”

“So I was wise from the start then.”

“I said knows he knows. Not simply not knows anything at all.”

“I knew things! I was walking and talking from the moment I graced your home.”

Chuckling, Mako caught his arm and pulled him back before he could skip ahead again. “Do you really want to know what I think of you?” Stopping in his tracks, Hayseed nodded vigorously. His straw shook and rustled. “Well,” Mako started teasingly and Hayseed leaned in eagerly to hear it. But all he got was a belch right next to where his ear should have been.

Mako doubled over in laughter as Hayseed stood dumbstruck. His laughter is deep and sincere and Hayseed wants the sound to live in his ears. Mako had never really played this kind of joke on him before. It was so– childish. The kind of thing you’d only do with someone very close to you. And then he’s laughing too. 

“You bastard!” he wailed between giggles. “I can’t believe I trusted you!” This sends Mako into another wave of laughter. He had to wipe tears from his eyes when he finally calmed down.

“Never forget who won this day,” he declared with a smile full of mischief. They keep bantering up until when the little path from the farm joins with the main road. From there on Hayseed takes to the tree branches. Mako is still awed by how easily leaps from the earth into the treetops. They part ways, but remain in each other’s thoughts.

In town, Mako sits on the ground, wares spread on a blanket. Little carved animals and objects and various small bags of dried herbs are neatly organized on it. “Yes ma’am, a charm for fertility. That would be this one.” Leaning over he plucks the vaguely human shape with a distorted gut. She hands him a bronze coin and takes it from him. The day has come to a close and its his last sale of the day.

As he tugs the four corners of his blanket together a terrifying chill goes up his spine. Dropping the fabric he cranes to see what might have made feel like that. But there is just the people meandering same as always. His heart is pounding, but the feeling passes even if he’s left reeling by the event.  
Packed up, he goes to the smithy. The man there greets him kindly enough and they barter for each item on the list. By the end of it his packed is loaded down with stuff, more than even he’s used to, ox of a man that he is. Still the thought of Hayseed’s smiling face propels him back out of town.

Hayseed is waiting for him right where they parted and as soon as he sees the pack, he rushes to Mako. “What happened? Were you so bad at selling you started to being given things?” he joked weakly, pulling at the straps.

Shrugging off the pack, Mako unbuttons the top and the sight of so much metal has Hayseed practically chewing on his hand to stifle his shriek of delight. It’s exactly what Mako was hoping for. His chest swells with warmth.

“I– I honestly thought you forgot.”

“Sorry it took so long. I hope I got it all. I’m not exactly a smith so I just had to hope it was the right stuff.”

Very quietly Hayseed says, “You do spoil me. Rotten.” 

This makes Mako laugh again and he squeezes Hayeed’s shoulder, “You want me to stop?” 

“No!” he answers firmly, bending over to grab the pack and sling it over his shoulder effortlessly. He breaks into a giant grin.

“Couldn’t stop me anyways,” Mako mumbles, starting toward their home. Hayseed feels like he’s burning brighter than ever. As they walk in the fading light, it contemplates how different he feels when he’s with Mako versus being alone. As much as the freedom of being his own is exciting and introspective, when he’s with Mako it’s like his flames are constantly fanned. And it was never enough.

At home the pack was quickly broken open and thoroughly rooted through. Hayseed cooed happily the whole time, laying out every piece while Mako made a quick meal. He also secretively watched his creature delight in its gifts. Fondness never ending, Mako made a quiet prayer to his gods that they could go on like this forever.

After looking through it all, Hayseed packed it back up and ran over to Mako, peg thumping loudly. He threw himself on his summoner, squeezing hard. His unnatural strength made Mako wheeze. “Thank you! You have no idea, I’m happier than a pig in shit!”

“Your welcome,” he choked out, finally catching his breath when Hayseed eased up. “Nothing makes me happier.”

“Really?”  
“Of course,” he assured. Then fretted as Hayseed stood still, eyes twisting in place. It was something he did before asking difficult questions.

“Do you treat your friends this well, too?”

Leaning against the countertop, looking over at his quickly cooling meal, he sighed. “Well when I had them– maybe not this well.”

Hayseed stepped forward, finding the rabbit hole he wanted to go down. “You have no friends?”

A blisteringly icy look glassed Mako’s face, lip curling as he answered. “Not in this community.” Oh, of course, realized Hayseed. While he hadn’t gotten the details of what had happened, Mako had made it clear that everyone in towan and the surrounding area were a danger to them.

Turning to lean against the counter as well, Hayseed pressed on. “But now ye’ve had yer revenge. Couldn’t we leave? Go someplace where you can have friends?”

Mako pursed his lips and didn’t say anything. His stomach churned as black feelings raised their monstrous heads. In the process of trying to get know Mako, Hayseed was opening doors Mako preferred closed.

His silence spoke volumes. “Is this another self punishment?” Mako twitched, startled. Hayseed pressed on. “Dipstick. Ye can’t hurt yourself into feelin’ better.” Placing his hand on Mako’s back, thick scars revealing themselves through the fabric, he said, “Ye’ve been doing it a long time, haven’t ya.”

Every word cut to the bone. He felt ashamed and angry. It was so unfair how Hayseed could dig deeper and deeper into him, but had no secrets to share in exchange. “What do you know?” Mako growled, knocking Hayseed’s hand from his back and putting distance between them. “Who are you to lecture me? What do you know of life yet?”

This was foreign territory. Even on that day he’d first gone to town, Mako hadn’t been angry like this. A hollow pain erupted in him that threatened to break him. “I just want ye to be the happiest you can be,” said weakly.

“I don’t need to be happy.” The words were cold. “I’ve made my bed, now I’ll lie in it.”

“But you deserve it.”

“I deserved to be left here to rot. But the goddess showed mercy and put you in my care.” His voice was softer now.

Now a spark of irritation ignited in Hayseed’s chest. “You think I’m a child? A pet? I ain’t helpless anymore. Maybe I’ve only been around a short while, but there’s so much more I understand every day. And I understand that right now yer bein’ an ass!”

“I think you’re naïve. You know things but haven’t lived them. You– you’re all I have and all I care for now, but that doesn’t mean you can just tear me open and fix me with some well–meaning words.”

It was overwhelmed, by the sincerity of those words and by the truth he hadn’t really thought of when he’d started badgering Mako. Like one of many of his barely there memories, little more than a feeling, Hayseed understood. Of course he doesn’t want to hurt.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to be like that. But you’re also all I have. I want to make you happy.”

“I’m sorry too. I hope you understand. How much I want to be happy, but how much it hurts to be let myself have it.” 

For the rest of the night there was an unshakable, uncomfortable quiet between them. Even saying goodnight felt painful. As Hayseed lay estranged from his maker, he nursed the ache in his chest, waiting for morning to come soon.

**Author's Note:**

> not really beta-d so if you see a big mistake tell me haha
> 
> once a week updates for this one


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